Return to peaceful Crossroads, Texas, where community comes first and love thrives in the unlikeliest places...
Yancy Grey is slowly putting his life back together after serving time for petty theft. As he rebuilds an old house, he finally has a sense of stability, but he canât stop thinking of himself as just an ex-con. Until one night, he finds a mysterious dark-haired beauty hiding in his loft. But who is she, and what secret is she protecting?
The art gallery Parker Lacey manages is her lifeâshe has no time for friends, and certainly not lovers. But when her star artist begs Parker for help, she finds herself in a pickup truck, headed for the sleepy town of Crossroads. A truck driven by a strong, silent cowboy...
Gabe Snow has been a drifter since he left Crossroads at seventeen after a violent incident. When he accepts a job in his hometown, heâll have to decide whether he can put the worst night of his life behind him and build a future in the community that raised him.
Praise for Jodi Thomas
and her RANSOM CANYON series
âCompelling and beautifully written, it is exactly the kind of heart-wrenching, emotional story one has come to expect from Jodi Thomas.â
âDebbie Macomber, #1 New York Times bestselling author
âThomas sketches a slow, sweet surrender.â
âPublishers Weekly
âJodi Thomas is a masterful storyteller. She grabs your attention on the first page, captures your heart, and then makes you sad when itâs time to bid her wonderful characters farewell. You can count on Jodi Thomas to give you a satisfying and memorable read.â
âCatherine Anderson, New York Times bestselling author
âThomas is a wonderful storyteller.â
âRT Book Reviews on Rustlerâs Moon
âWestern romance legend Thomasâs Ransom Canyon will warm readers with its huge heart and gentle souls.â
âLibrary Journal
âA pure joy to read.â
âRT Book Reviews
CHAPTER ONE
Flight
January 2012
LAX
VICTORIA VILANIE CURLED into a ball, trying to make herself small, trying to disappear. Her black hair spread around her like a cape but couldnât protect her.
All the sounds in the airport were like drums playing in a jungle full of predators. Carts with clicking wheels rolling on pitted tiles. People shuffling and shouting and complaining. Electronic voices rattling off numbers and destinations. Babies crying. Phones ringing. Winterâs late storm pounding on walls of glass.
Victoria, Tori to her few friends, might not be making a sound, but she was screaming inside.
Tears dripped off her face, and she didnât bother to wipe them away. The noise closed in around her, making her feel so lonely in the crowd of strangers.
She was twenty-four, and everyone said she was a gifted artist. Money poured in so fast it had become almost meaningless, only a number that brought no joy. But tonight all she wanted was silence, peace, a world where she could hide out.
She scrubbed her eyes on her sleeve and felt a hand touch her shoulder like it were a bird, featherlight, landing there.
Tori turned and recognized a woman sheâd seen once before. The tall blonde in her midthirties owned one of the best galleries in Dallas. Who could forget Parker Laceyâs green eyes? She was a woman who had it all and knew how to handle her life. A born general who must manage her life as easily as she managed her business.
âAre you all right, Tori?â Parker asked.
Tori could say nothing but the truth. âIâm living the wrong life.â
Then the strangest thing happened. The lady with green eyes hugged her and Tori knew, for the first time in years, that someone had heard her, really heard her.
CHAPTER TWO
The stone-blue days of winter
February
Dallas, Texas
PARKER LACEY SAT perfectly straight on the side of her hospital bed. Her short, sunny blond hair combed, her makeup in place and her logical mind in control of all emotions, as always.
Sheâd ignored the pain in her knee, the throbbing in her leg, for months. She ignored it now.
Sheâd been poked and examined all day, and now all that remained before the curtain fell on her life was for some doctor she barely knew to tell her just how long she had left to live. A month. Six months. If she was lucky, a year?